


5 Times Simon Wanted a Fist Bump, and the One Time He Finally Got It

by Caitybug



Category: Carry On Series - Rainbow Rowell, Simon Snow & Related Fandoms
Genre: Art, Fist Bump, I almost tagged this as fisting, Light Angst, M/M, No Fisting in my Fist Bumping Fic, Simon just wants to know that he has a friend, Swords, WHO IS AMAZING, Watford, Yearning, and deserves ALL OF THE LOVE, art by Nick, as a joke, asking people out, aw are we friends??, bday gift for clev (:, but I don't want to get anyone's hopes up LOL, dudes being guys, every other relationship is a background character, it's so good, just bros being dudes, just like, mothman makes a brief appearance, simpard, the real star here is, very light
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-17
Updated: 2020-09-17
Packaged: 2021-03-07 00:40:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 5,489
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26498041
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Caitybug/pseuds/Caitybug
Summary: Simon Snow hasn't had a lot of friends in his life. He has Penny, who is great, of course. He has Baz (but does he count as a friend?)So now, seeing Shepard, he's got a chance at a friend. A bro of sorts.Simon sees the final hurdle in their friendship to be a fist bump. A simple signal of their friendship.But how long is it going to take to get it??~~5 + 1 Yearning for a Fist Bump.Happy Bday Clev <3
Relationships: Penelope Bunce/Shepard, Shepard & Simon Snow, Tyrannus Basilton "Baz" Pitch/Simon Snow
Comments: 51
Kudos: 158





	1. Teach Me How to Swing, Bro

**Author's Note:**

  * For [clevelandy](https://archiveofourown.org/users/clevelandy/gifts).



> This fic was written for [Clev's](http://tumblr.com/blog/motherscarf) birthday. Happy birthday friend! 
> 
> I hope this day is as amazing as you are!
> 
> Special shoutout to [Nick](http://tumblr.com/blog/nick-eyre) for the AMAZING art in chapter 6! They were a crucial part of this process. Thanks for your encouragement, your sketches, and OF COURSE your ability to understand the dynamic as great as you do. You're a rockstar!
> 
> Thanks so much to my friend Bree, [Sconey](http://tumblr.com/blog/sconelover) , and [Liz](http://tumblr.com/blog/foolofabookworm) for beta reading!

**Penelope**

Sometimes I wonder if this was a mistake. That bringing Shepard with us was the wrong choice. He probably should have stayed in America. 

But I couldn’t resist. After everything that happened and finding out about his  _ curse. _

(I’m going to help him get rid of it. I promised. And I’m sure my father has  _ something _ in his study on demonic curses. I’ll figure it out.)

I’m weak, it seems. Simon with his wand faced the wrong way. Shepard with his demonic curse. 

I love a problem. A mess. Something to solve and to help. 

And Shepard is a huge mess. 

But now, after things have settled, and the world lies in front of us, I worry that we may have made the wrong choice. 

(What are we going to do now? Wait for another big bad to attack?)

Shepard made the decision, of course. Contrary to popular belief, I can’t actually make anyone do anything. Being a Normal around two Mages and whatever Simon is (clearly not Normal) can’t be good for him. 

We’re sitting on the lawn at Watford. Baz is leaning against a tree, nose deep in a book. Now that mum has become Headmistress, more books are available, and she was able to return his mother’s belongings.

Simon’s on edge. He’s pulling his hair and his eyes are darting all over like he’s waiting for something to attack. 

It’s been so long since we’ve been back here. 

And when we arrived it’s not like he had time to really  _ think _ about where we were or let his brain adjust.

But now that we  _ are _ here, casually visiting Mum and letting Shepard explore the Magickal world, it’s starting to catch up to him. 

He’s only known a Watford with the Humdrum and monsters. It’s not fair, really. 

I turn to look at Shepard, who has some first-year books from Magickal Theory, excitedly taking notes.

Shepard is probably the most excited one here. He’s loving it.

(Of course.)

“Simon,” I say, moving closer to him. “I think it’s almost tea time. We could go get some scones?” 

If anything will perk Simon up, it’ll be the mention of scones. 

He shakes his head slightly, trying to get rid of the thoughts plaguing his mind. 

(Oh, Simon. What’s going through your head now?) 

“What?” He asks, clearly only half hearing what I was asking.

“I said-” 

“Wait, Simon!” Shepard shouts, slamming a book closed. “Can I see your sword again?”

Simon frowns. 

He  _ just _ got the Sword of Mages back. I doubt he’d-

“All right,” he says, shrugging. 

I blink in astonishment. That wasn’t the response I expected. 

Simon says the enchantment so quickly I almost miss it. But then it appears and he hands it to Shepard. 

Shepard holds it for a moment before shifting on his feet and holding it high in the air. 

I look over at Simon to try to catch his eye, but he’s too busy watching Shepard in amazement. 

I look back and watch Shepard swing (well, try to swing) the sword in the air. I’m about to ask what he’s trying to accomplish when Simon interrupts me. 

“I can teach you.” He clears his throat. “If you’d like- of course.”

Shepard drops the sword slightly, beaming at Simon.

“Really?” He asks. 

I feel like this is a bad idea. Do we really need to give the American a weapon? 

(Though, admittedly, he may need it given who he chooses to spend his time with.)

Baz and I can take care of ourselves (magic), and so can Simon (even without his magic he’s a force to be reckoned with). It’s Shepard who needs a sword the most, I guess. 

(Better than a gun, I suppose.)

“Yeah.” Simon twists his back. I hear a few cracks and I frown. 

_ I guess the wings probably do quite a bit of damage to his spine. _

“Simon-”

“Let’s move to the pitch!” he suggests, ignoring me completely. “There’s plenty of space and no one is practicing now anyway.”

“How do you know?” Shepard asks. 

“Er,” Simon responds, grabbing the sword from Shepard and glancing towards Baz. “I may have a good understanding of the football team’s practice schedule.” 

Simon gives me a half-hearted wave and begins walking towards the pitch. Shepard makes a joke and I watch Simon laugh, his whole body lighting up. His wings spread out behind him, wide and large.

_ Maybe it’s a good thing we brought Shepard with us. _

I turn to Baz, who has finally looked up from his book. He’s watching Simon walk away. I see a few things in his eyes. 

Curiosity (of course).

Pain. That’s there too. It’s obvious they’ve got some work to do. I’m sure that’s why he’s had his head in a book since things settled down. An attempt to ignore the situation until it fixes itself, I believe. 

But also love. The two of them are sick with it. (It makes  _ me _ sick.)

When they return, Simon and Shepard are linked together. Simon’s got one arm around Shepard, the other lazily dragging the Sword of Mages behind him. It’s nearly touching the grass beside him. Shepard is laughing, his arm also draped over Simon’s shoulders. 

“What do you think those two were up to?” I mutter to Baz. 

“Not sure, but they appear to be chummy,” he responds, turning a page in his book. 

I watch as Simon puts away his sword and takes his arm off of Shepard. 

“Hey,” he says, a smile still alive on his lips. 

His demeanor has completely changed from an hour ago when they first left. Whatever happened, it must have been good for Simon. 

“We should get food,” Shepard states. “Penelope, didn’t you say it was tea time? Something about scones?”

“Oh yes!” Simon elates. “Shep, you're going to love the scones here. They are the absolute best. Sour cherry. Wouldn’t pass them up ever.” 

Shepard smiles and looks at me.

“Do you wanna come?” he asks, reaching to help me up. 

I wave him off.

“I’m alright. Baz and I are in the middle of a debate.”

Baz raises an eyebrow at me.

“We are? I was under the impression that we both understood that I was right and you were wrong.”

“Fat chance!” I shout, tossing a book at him. 

He catches it quickly, laughing with ease. 

This is the most comfortable we have all felt in a long time. 

“Did you both have fun?” I ask, looking back up to Simon and Shepard. 

“It was great!” Shepard says, cleaning up the books he had left strewn on the grass. “Simon was showing me some great moves and then-”

Simon clamps a hand over his mouth.

“Let’s leave that second bit out,” Simon says, laughing nervously. “It was great, Pen.” 

He lifts his hand off Shepard’s mouth and I frown.

“Simon, what-”

“It’s nothing, Penny!” he says, raising his hands up in defense. “We are fine- I promise.” 

He and Shepard share a glance.

“If you say so,” I huff. 

_ It’s not my job to take care of him _ , I remind myself. 

His face falls in relief and he looks at Shepard again, raising his hand. I see it curl into a fist and I frown in confusion. 

_ What is he doing? _

But then Shepard turns around and starts walking to the nearest building. (He’s yet to figure the layout of Watford. Currently, he’s headed towards the Cloisters.)

“Let’s get food!” he says, starting to walk off. Simon’s fist is still half raised and I watch his face fall. 

He drops his hand and schools his features, giving us another wave and following Shepard, redirecting him to where the dining hall is located. 

I sigh and reach for my book. 

I should have seen it coming.

(Though I can’t help but hope that this helps Simon. Having a Normal friend might be good for him. Get him out of the house some.)


	2. I'm Falling For You, Bro

**Simon**

Shepard and I are on the couch, waiting for Penny to get home. He’s picking at his fingers and keeps adjusting the sleeves on his jacket. 

“It’s going to be alright,” I say, trying to comfort him. I rest my hand on his shoulder and give him a couple of pats before pulling it off.

_ I’m not too great at the comforting bit. _

“Just nervous,” he laughs. He leans his head back, closing his eyes. A large exhale escapes his lips as he starts to shake his left leg up and down.

“It’s just Penny.” I move to face him, bringing both legs onto the sofa. 

I’m trying to downplay it, but I understand the fear. Penelope can be truly frightening. 

“Exactly,” he says with a sigh. “She’s terrifying at the  _ best _ of times.” He rubs his hands over his face. “Remember that time I tried to get her a mani/pedi for her birthday? I got a lecture for  _ four hours _ about misogyny and expectations for grooming of women.”

I wince. I do, in fact, remember it. I walked into the flat with Baz and a birthday cake and saw her pacing back and forth, flailing her hands and shouting. 

Baz and I shared a glance and sneakily walked to the kitchen. Shepard was leaning on his knees, staring forward. 

In hindsight, we should have helped the poor bloke. But- we’ve all had to handle Penelope yelling. It was like he was being welcomed into the group. 

Hazing; that’s what it’s called. 

“I just thought she’d like something  _ nice _ ,” he whispers. 

_ (Be comforting, Simon.) _

“This is different. I’m sure she’ll respond well.” 

_ I hope she does _ ,  _ at least. _

Almost on cue, the door to the flat opens, and Penny walks through the door, rattling away on the phone. Shepard and I exchange a glance and I hop up to give him space. 

“Basil, you  _ know _ how I feel about this-” she says. 

“Oh is that Baz?” I ask, stopping in front of her. She rolls her eyes.

“Simon says hello,” she tells the receiver. I hear him reply back. “Basil says hi, Simon.”

I smile and reach my hand out. She glares at me and mouths  _ what? _

“Give me the phone,” I whisper. 

Two birds, one stone. I’ll save Baz from whatever argument he’s gotten himself into with Penelope, and I’ll give Shepard an opportunity to talk to her. 

She somehow manages to glare harder at me. (Is that possible? Is there a scale of how hard someone can glare? I wonder if THAT is what Baz and she are arguing about. They’re the hardest glarers that I know.)

I grab the phone quickly from her ear and run the other way. 

“Is he about to ask her?” Baz says immediately as I walk around the corner.

I hear Penny huff and say something to Shepard. 

“Yeah,” I respond, turning the corner. I think I’m safe from whatever wrath she might inflict. 

“Good. I tried to get her riled up over something so that she’d be more receptive to what he has to say.”

I frown, sitting on the floor in the hallway, trying my best to listen to Shepard and Baz at the same time. 

“How is that supposed to help?”

“Well, she’ll be so busy being angry at me that she won’t get angry at him for asking wrong.”

“You can ask someone out on a date wrong?” I ask. 

“Do you not remember Christmas?”

I groan.

_ Christmas. _

As if he hadn’t messed up enough on her birthday, Shepard was in charge of getting decorations for Christmas. 

When he emptied the shopping bag the streamers were a pale pink. 

He got a lecture for an hour about assuming that since she was a  _ girl  _ that she’d want pink. And that pink made no sense for the holiday.

Turns out Shepard is a touch color blind and thought they were a light purple. 

She spelled his glasses to help with it and apologised, but he’s always very careful with labels now.

“How do you think it’s going?” Baz asks after we fall into silence.

I shrug.

I can’t hear anything. I thought I was close enough, and that they’d be loud enough, but I guess not.

“I can’t understand you if you don’t give me a verbal response, Simon,” Baz says. “I can’t see you.”

“Oh.”

_ Oops _ .

“Well?” He asks.

“I can’t hear anything, so I’ve no clue.” 

That has to mean it’s going alright.

_ Right? _

“Well, can’t be too bad then.”

I nod, trying to listen. 

“7 tomorrow, then?” Shepard asks. 

My eyes go wide.

_ I knew she’d say yes. _

Despite how intense Penny can be, I know she likes Shepard. She wouldn’t have brought him to America if she didn’t. And she wouldn’t hang around him so often too if that were the case. 

Penny has limited slots for friends in her life. She’s never been one to keep a lot of company and is very vocal about it. So to bring him, a Normal, into her circle...

Well. That has to mean something, right?

Baz says she’s probably so hard on him because she’s scared. That after everything with Micah, she might not want to engage in that kind of relationship.

“I think she said yes,” I whisper. 

“Thank Crowley,” he sighs. “Now we can stop watching those two dance around each other.”

I snort. Penny has certainly said the same about the two of us.

I stand up and walk back down the hall. Penny immediately snaps her head up.

“Give,” she says sternly, reaching out her hand. 

I hand the phone back to her without thinking. (When Penny says to do something, I tend to just do it. Hasn’t steered me wrong yet.) 

She immediately starts going off on Baz, and I realize my mistake. 

_ He can handle it.  _

I look to Shepard and see a big smile on his face.

“So?” I ask, waiting for confirmation. 

He nods his head.

“Tomorrow.” 

“Great.” 

I raise my hand and move closer to him. 

_ This type of event requires a fist bump, right? _

I keep seeing friends do it in shows. Kids did it at the care homes too (with their friends). Penelope isn’t one to do it, and Baz would probably raise a judgmental brow at me (possibly even a sneer) for even trying.

But Shepard- he’s cool. This has  _ got _ to be something we can do.

My knees hit something hard, and I realize I walked right into the coffee table. I start to stumble forward but stop when two arms grab me and hold me upright.

“You alright there?” Shepard asks, laughing. 

I look up and try to laugh it off too. 

_ So fucking smooth. _

I stand up, rubbing my hands on my trousers, trying to recover. 

Penny walks back in, says something about the Oxford Comma, and hangs up. 

She walks into the kitchen and I look back at Shepard. 

He’s got a large smile on his face, looking in her direction. 

And if I didn’t think they’d be good before this moment, it would have been cemented in the way he looks at her now. 

The glint in his eyes. 

It has  _ lovestruck _ written all over it.

“Congrats,” I say.

He looks back at me, a smile still stretched wide on his face. 

“Thanks,” he replies, standing up and following her into the kitchen. 

I think it’ll be good. 

The pieces are all fitting together. 

I rub my knee again, take a seat, and close my eyes. 


	3. Ouch, Bro

**Baz**

  
Simon and I are putting away clothes. 

(Well, he’s folding, I’m refolding, and then I’m putting them away.)

The sun is shining in through the window to our bedroom, hitting the bed and Simon’s face. His wings are still spelled from a trip to the bakery this morning. (I wanted some fresh bread- he wanted scones.) He’s frowning in concentration as he tries to fold shirts the way I do. (I’ve perfected the method throughout the years.) 

“Have you heard from Bunce and Shepard yet?” I ask, trying to break his intense eye contact at the fitted sheet waiting to be folded. 

_No one can fold those properly, Snow. Don’t fret._

“Er.” He pulls his phone from his back pocket and checks it. After unlocking and looking at his messages he responds. “Yeah- they’ll be here in ten.” 

I nod. 

He lets out a sigh and grabs the sheet to attempt to fold it as best he can. (It’ll end up as a lump in the cabinet regardless of who folds it.)

I can tell that Simon has something on his mind. It’s always painfully obvious. His brows furrow and his eyes are a bit unfocused. If I stare long enough I think I could see each individual gear turning in his brain, trying to find a solution to whatever predicament he’s found himself in.

I could interrupt his thought process; ask what’s wrong. But if I’ve learned anything over the years, it’s best if it comes from him. 

He lets out another huff as he tosses the sheet towards the door, closer to where we keep our linens. 

I don’t fight it. He’s obviously going through something at the moment, choosing instead to take it out on our sheets. I wait instead, walking a pile of pants to the dresser drawer. 

(I think he’s getting close anyway. I can practically see the steam coming from his ears.)

He clears his throat and I turn around.

“Er, Baz. Can I ask you a question?” he mutters, putting a shirt on a hanger. 

I raise my eyebrow. 

_Interesting._

“I fear you already have, Snow.” 

That earns me a scoff and a pair of eyes rolling as he turns to me. 

“Serious, Baz.”

I move closer, holding him by the hips and kissing his forehead. 

“Yes, do continue.”

“Well, er,” he stammers. He’s moved a hand to his hair, tugging at a few unlucky strands. “Do you think Shepard likes me?”

I frown. 

“What?” I ask, confused. 

“Like-” He takes a step back, clearly worked up. “Does he see us as friends?” 

I’m still utterly confused.

“Simon, are you asking _me_ if you and Shepard are friends?” I ask, sitting on the bed to look up at him. 

He’s moved to try to fold a pair of jeans. Not a difficult task, but seemingly hard for him in this state. 

He frowns as he tries to fold them again. 

“Yeah,” he mutters. 

I sit and ponder for a moment. Shepard and Simon have clicked in many ways. I can’t, for the life of me, figure out why Simon thinks they _aren’t_ friends. 

“What’s brought this on?” I ask, crossing my arms over my chest. 

He shrugs. 

_He’s always shrugging, even after all this time._

“I just wanted an outside perspective.”

I open my mouth to respond but then I hear the door open. 

(We gave Bunce a key a month ago and it’s the biggest mistake we’ve ever made.)

“Stop snogging and come say hi to us!” she shouts from the living room. 

I stand up and kiss Simon on his temple.

“If you weren’t friends, I’m sure he wouldn’t be insistent on coming over,” I whisper, hoping to provide comfort. 

He lets out a long exhale and nods, dropping the wretched pair of jeans on the bed. 

“Yeah, alright,” he concedes, walking out of the room with me. 

I’ve no clue _why_ he feels this way, or what has brought up the sudden insecurity. He’s never wondered if he and Bunce are friends. Why is he having similar feelings about Shepard? Those two talk every day and have an obscene amount of things in common. 

We greet both Bunce and Shepard. Simon has a pleasant smile on his face, and he and Shepard immediately jump into conversation. 

It’s almost as if Simon has forgotten about his earlier questioning. 

_Are Shepard and I friends?_ he asks… the idiot. 

“So, what shall we eat?” Bunce asks.

She isn’t looking at me. She’s looking straight at Simon and Shepard. 

We both know who chooses the food in the group. 

“Curry!” they both say simultaneously. 

Bunce laughs while Simon and Shepard beam at each other. 

Then I watch the oddest thing occur. Simon lifts his hand up, moving it towards Shepard’s, curling into a fist. 

I frown as Shepard twists his body and Simon’s fist collides with his shoulder. 

“Ouch,” Shepard laughs, rubbing his shoulder and looking at Simon. Simon’s face is stuck in a wince, clearly embarrassed by his decision. “I didn’t realize you were so excited about curry.” 

Simon drops his hand and shakes it out. “Er, yeah! Just really excited about curry!” he says loudly. 

(It’s a little too loud if I’m being honest.)

Shepard laughs and pats him on the back a couple of times, then starts to move towards the door. 

“Let’s go, then! I’d hate to keep you waiting.” He gives Simon a wink. 

Bunce follows him out of our flat, chatting about a new find her father has made. 

I look over to Simon whose face is downtrodden. 

“If you keep punching him, he might not be your friend anymore,” I joke, laughing a bit while saying it. 

I hoped it’d give him a sense of comfort, but Simon’s head turns quickly to mine, eyes looking up at me with worry.

“You don’t think he believes I meant to punch him, do you?” He asks. “That was a mistake!” 

He looks back at the door.

“Simon-”

“Shepard!” he shouts, running out the door. 

I see a glimpse of a tail starting to return from the spell this morning. 

“Simon!” I shout after him, trying to catch up, lock the door, and spell his tail gone at the same time. 

I manage to get his tail, at least, but not until after he trips on it as he catches up to apologise to Shepard. 

He’s worried for the rest of the day, and I can’t seem to understand _why_. 


	4. Why You Gotta Fistblock Me, Bro?

**Simon**

  
Shepard and I have been going on what we call ‘ _Cryptid Adventures’_ together. 

It was weird at first. I wasn’t quite sure what he _meant_ by _cryptid._ But then we met the Loch Ness monster. 

Most would think her name is Nessie.

Apparently it’s Janet.

(It was quite embarrassing for me when I greeted her by the incorrect name.)

Tonight we are with the Mothman. It typically resides in America, but according to Shepard it regularly comes to London to meet with European cryptids.

Apparently they have their own undercover government system. 

For a moth/person hybrid it’s tall.

(Taller than Baz, even.)

It has red glowing eyes and huge moth-like wings. 

(It’s also allergic to citrus, apparently.)

We compared our wings, determining which are larger. (Mothman’s are, but not by much.) 

We both agree, however, that dragon wings are much cooler. 

We are about to leave when I see it happen.

_A fistbump._

It shouldn’t be that big of a deal, but I want to do it so badly. 

(It seems like a good final hurdle in our friendship. That’s how I know I’ve made it. The moment our fists meet in celebration of any milestone.)

Mothman and Shepard bump fists and I feel something spark in my chest. 

_Anger?_

_Jealousy?_

_Sadness?_

I’m not sure. Maybe a combination of the three. All I know is I wish that was me fistbumping Shepard. 

“Ready?” Shepard asks, suddenly close to me. 

It happened quickly- I could have sworn he was next to Mothman still. 

I look over and see Monthman’s gone. I frown, watching the sun start to rise, meaning we should go home.

“Yeah,” I respond, turning to walk with him down the road. 

“That was sick,” he says as we get closer to the tube. 

Everything feels weird. I’m not sure _why._

But something’s off. (Maybe it’s sleep deprivation.)

“Yeah,” I respond, twisting my back. “I can’t believe it helped me with my back pain. That trick he did really worked wonders.”

He did this weird thing and popped my back into place. I’m going to have to show Baz that trick. It’ll be easier to have someone else do it. (And with his vampire strength, it’ll be even better.)

Wings are positive in many aspects, but the back pain is the _worst._

As we walk further, and I see people pass us, I realise something weird.

_My wings are out_.

“Hey Shep,” I start, looking around. 

I look at him and he has ice cream. 

He hums in acknowledgment and lifts a cone up for me.

“I got you one too,” he says.

I reach to grab it. “Thanks,” I respond, licking the sides. 

_Maybe this is where I can_ …

I lift up my fist to give him a bump, ignoring the people walking by.

(They’re ignoring me too. People in London must really be jaded if a dude walking down the road with wings and a devil tail raises no eyebrows.)

I see a redhead in a purple dress run past us as Shepard raises his fist, preparing to hit mine. 

It’s in slow motion. I’m not sure why.

(Maybe because I want it so badly?)

A large brown dog runs around Shepard.

We are frozen in time, his fist so close to my own, when something small comes out of nowhere and collides its fist (paw? I think that’s a paw) with my own.

“Beep beep,” the dog says. It looks animated and small, with a head too large for its body. It presses its palm on my hand twice. “It’s a car!”

Then it runs off, leaving me to look at the space Shepard occupied before.

_What the fuck._

I look up and see Shepard’s gone.

I frown.

I open my mouth to say something when a flyer hits me in the face. It’s wet and smells like dirty pavement. 

I pull it down to read what it says.

**Proclamation #420 Section 69**

**From this point forward fist bumps, high fives, or any other**

**collision of hands will be banned.**

**Those in violation of this will be tossed into the Thames**

**where your fate will be decided by whatever lies for you in the waters.**

  
  


I stare at the paper, rereading it three times to make sure I’ve understood it clearly.

“What the-”

I take a deep breath and open my eyes.

_A dream._

I sit up to see a soft haze coming from the television. When I squint my eyes to look at the screen I see the tiny dog from my dream and hear something about a _Scrappy-Doo._

I turn it off, immediately remembering what the small monster did (stole) in my dream. 

The door opens and Baz walks in, closing the door quietly and turning on the light. 

I blink twice to adjust my eyes to the brightness. 

“Hi, love,” he says, seeing me on the sofa. “I didn’t think you’d be awake.”

I look to the clock in red letters on the DVD player below the TV. 

_1:26._

“Fell asleep on the sofa,” I say, stretching and standing up. 

He kisses me and grabs my hand, starting to walk towards the bedroom. He flips the switch on the other side, enveloping us in darkness again. 

I roll my shoulders back. 

“Hey, Baz.”

“Yes, Simon?”

“Can you try something on my back?”


	5. We Tried, Bro

**Shepard**

Simon and I are at his kitchen table, talking as low as we can. 

(We don’t want anyone to hear what’s happening.)

We are shoulder to shoulder, hunched over my laptop, plotting. 

(I’d have called it planning, but Simon insisted this was a  _ plot.) _

“And then you and Penny will come out for pictures,” Simon states, wrapping up our  _ meeting of the minds _ as I called it. 

I nod in response.

“It’s going to be great,” I reassure. 

He’s nervous, which I get. But we all know what’s going to happen.

I hear the door open and we immediately straighten our backs, as if that will dispel any thought that we were up to anything. 

Penny walks by on the phone and gives a wave. 

(If she suspects anything, she’s good at playing it off.)

I look to Simon and give him a wink. He slams the laptop closed. I worry, briefly, that it may be damaged, but it’s seen worse. 

(I dropped it while talking to Blue once. She helped as best she could but being made of water makes it hard for her to grip anything.)

I raise a hand to give him a high-five to celebrate the success. He gives a large smile and raises his hand, but right when we collide his hand forms a fist.

We sit for a moment, my flat hand against his fist, an obvious miscommunication between us both. 

Simon’s face drops and he lowers his fist. 

“Sorry I-”

“No no,” I interrupt. “It’s all good. Try again.”

I raise my hand, determined to do this right. 

This time my fist collides with his hand, held flat up for a high-five. 

_ Man, we can’t get this right.  _

I open my mouth to say something, but the door opens and Baz walks in.

“Snow, help me with the groceries,” he demands, walking with three bags to the kitchen. 

Simon sighs and follows behind him. 

“Baz says he’s been acting strangely,” Penny says from beside me. 

(I wonder if she saw our failed attempt at a high five.)

I turn to look at her. She’s leaning against the wall, looking toward the kitchen suspiciously.

“Has he given any reasons  _ why?” _ I ask. 

Simon hasn’t told Penny yet. He wants to tell her alone, away from Baz. 

She and Baz just always seem to be in the house at the same time.

I offered to tell her for him, but he said that would make her angry. 

“Something about you,” she replies.

I blink.

“Me?”

“Yeah, what else would he be weird about?”

I shrug, avoiding the topic-that-shall-not-be-named. 

“Why me, though?” 

“Said something about Simon asking him if you were friends or not,” she continues, moving to sit next to me. 

She’s whispering now. Simon can’t hear her, but certainly Baz can listen in. 

(At least, I think. Sometimes I wonder how much of his vampire traits he’s telling the truth about, and how much he just wants me to  _ think _ he can do.)

Simon and Baz walk back out of the kitchen, plates in hand with take-out.

_ Why would Simon think we weren’t friends? _


	6. We Made It, Bro

**Simon**

  
It’s finally here. I’m on one knee in our living room, looking up at Baz with a ring in my hand.

It wasn’t _supposed_ to happen in our living room. 

I had a whole night planned. But it fell apart. 

I almost moved it, waited to do it until everything was _perfect_. 

But sitting here with him, watching something stupid on the telly, laughing and comfortable. 

I couldn’t help myself. 

I know I’m saying words but I’m not sure what they are anymore. It could be absolute gibberish at this point.

(It probably is, knowing me.)

I think Shepard and Penny are at the doorway to the kitchen. 

“Yes,” Baz says when I finally close my mouth. 

I smile and stand up, stepping closer to kiss him. 

He whispers yes countless more times against my mouth. 

I can’t stop smiling.

_He said yes._

I slip the ring onto his finger, blessing all the forces out there when it goes on easily. Then I look up and see tears going down his face. 

“Baz, are you all right?” 

He nods, smiling down at me, kissing my forehead. 

I hear some clicks of a camera and turn to see Shepard, beaming at us and clicking away. Penny stands next to him with a cup of tea, a tear going down her cheek. 

“Tea?” she asks, standing straighter. Baz drops his head onto my chest. 

Ah, yes, tea. The English way of dealing with emotion.

I feel Baz nod and I give her a thumbs up. 

She walks away and I get Baz and me to sit down, him crying into my shirt. 

(I really did surprise him. I don’t think he had even an _inkling_ this was happening tonight.)

Getting information past your all-knowing, all-hearing, and nosey boyfriend is hard to do. 

But I did it. 

Shepard walks by, a mug of hot chocolate already made. He pauses behind the couch and I look up to see him wink and raise a fist.

My heart stops.

_Oh my god, is it happening?_

I stare at it for longer than necessary, unsure if I’m actually processing what is happening. 

_A fistbump._

(Finally.)

I raise my fist up and bump his. 

(Am I crying? I wasn’t crying before when Baz said yes. Why is _this_ what pushes me over the edge? A _fistbump_ of all things.)

Shepard gives a smile and walks back to the kitchen. 

September 17th.

_Best day of my life._

__

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks so much for reading! I hope you all enjoyed this fun little fic. (Especially you, Clevo.)
> 
> Feel free to check me out on [Tumblr](http://tumblr.com/blog/caitybuglove23)


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